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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29759595">Red is for Revenge</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TMNT_Queen/pseuds/TMNT_Queen'>TMNT_Queen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>BAMF Jason Todd, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Hurt Raphael, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Murder, Murder-Suicide, Protective Jason Todd, Protective Raphael (TMNT), Revenge</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:42:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,319</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29759595</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TMNT_Queen/pseuds/TMNT_Queen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After his best friend's apparent suicide, Raphael wants vengeance - but he might be in way over his head. "You ain't in Kansas anymore, kid." (Rated T for language.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Casey Jones &amp; Raphael (TMNT), Donatello &amp; Leonardo &amp; Michelangelo &amp; Raphael &amp; Splinter (TMNT), Tim Drake &amp; Dick Grayson &amp; Jason Todd &amp; Bruce Wayne &amp; Damian Wayne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter One: Raphael</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story is the product of my wonderings about TMNT and the Batman 'verse...if the turtles crossed paths with Batman, Batgirl, and Robin/Damian in the "Batman vs. Ninja Turtles" movie, who's to say that the turtles wouldn't eventually meet Batman's other protegees as well? </p><p>Blanket Disclaimer: I don't own the turtles, and I also don't own the DC Universe franchise. If I did, my life would be a lot different.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Laying the groundwork for future chapters...also, I'm already a bit faster at coding (though not much). I hope you guys enjoy this fic.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>Chapter One: Raphael</h1><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Raphael stood in front of the grave with his hands shoved deep in his coat pockets and a scowl upon his lips. "You're a jerk," he snapped.<br/>
<br/>
There was no answer, of course - though it might've been stranger if there was. It was the middle of the night on a frigid evening in January. Snow lay thick about the cemetery grounds, blanketing everything in pure white; it was a miracle that the cold powder wasn't already contaminated with the grime from the nearby streets, but Raph was too angry to appreciate the rare beauty of nature.<br/>
<br/>
"How could you just up and leave me like that?" the stocky ninja demanded. A few snowflakes drifted down from the clouds above and somewhere deep inside he knew that he should probably find shelter before the approaching blizzard actually hit, but that rationality was drowned out by a wave of bitterness. "All those battles we fought together, and <em>that's</em> how you go out? Without me there by your side? I could've <em>been there,</em> damn it. I could've- I should've-"<br/>
<br/>
His harlequin eyes stung and he made no move to wipe the tears away. There was no one around to see him cry, not this time. His family was bundled up safe and warm in the Lair, and April and her father were somewhere in Oregon at the moment, and-<br/>
<br/>
And he was alone.<br/>
<br/>
For the first time in his life, he was well and truly <em>alone.</em> "I should've been there. Why didn't you <em>call me,</em> idiot?"<br/>
<br/>
The memory rose, unbidden, and Raph shuddered at the cruel reminder.<br/>
<br/>
<em>Thirteen unread text messages, seven missed calls.<br/>
<br/>
Approaching the teen's apartment and fighting off an ever-growing sense of dread.<br/>
<br/>
Blood-splattered walls and the smell of gunsmoke.<br/>
<br/>
Open, unseeing brown eyes.<br/>
</em><br/>
There one minute and gone the next. No note, no warning. Nothing.<br/>
<br/>
<em>Nothing.</em><br/>
<br/>
"Damn it, Casey," Raph whispered, furious and aching and just so <em>tired</em> all of a sudden. The wind nipped at his exposed face and he tugged his scarf up a little. Even with the layers of clothing he had on, he was finally starting to feel the effects that the cold weather had on him.<br/>
<br/>
His vision blurred with more tears and this time he blinked them away so he could reread the headstone for the thousandth time.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <em>Casey Arnold Jones<br/>
Beloved Son and Friend<br/>
Nov. 4, 1995 - Dec. 12, 2014</em>
  </p>
</div><p>It had been three weeks since Raphael's best friend was found dead in his apartment. Three weeks since the coroner ruled the cause of death a suicide. Three weeks since the teen was laid to rest in this tiny cemetery on the Lower East Side.</p><p>Raph was a wreck.</p><p>Casey was the only person who understood where the fiery ninja was coming from, who supported his lifestyle choices when his father and brothers would not. He was the person that Raph knew he could always talk to after a rough day, when Leo's perfectionist ways had been particularly trying, when Mikey had gotten on his nerves a tad too much. He was the one constant in the ever-shifting landscape of Raph's life - his rock, the one person he could always count on for anything.</p><p>Now he was gone.</p><p>Something red-hot and searing flashed through the turtle's veins and he growled low in his throat as his neon green gaze darkened. Whether the cops ruled the case a suicide or not, Raphael knew the truth.</p><p>And someone was going to pay.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter Two: Raphael</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>Chapter Two: Raphael</h1><p>Since Raphael was on the outs with his family, it was all too simple to come up with a lame excuse for leaving town, and nobody even questioned him.</p><p>He didn't know whether to be hurt or relieved.</p><p>On one hand, having that newfound freedom meant that he could do whatever was necessary to track down his best friend's murderer and he wouldn't get called out for his actions. The flip side of that coin was that he had no one to back him up, nobody to ask when he had questions, no one to turn to when he just needed to talk things out.</p><p>The seventeen-year-old shoved those thoughts down in favor of packing for his upcoming trip. If the past few weeks had taught him anything, it was that Casey Arnold Jones, Sr. was a smart man. Not smart enough to leave his son alive, mind you, but smart enough to book it out of New York City while he had the chance.</p><p>Casey Arnold Jones, Sr. was a former soldier turned druggie; his keen mind and ruthless nature had him at one of the highest-ranking positions he could've been promoted to during his military days, but that glory had long since faded. The man's wife passed away while giving birth to their daughter - Casey's sister -, and ever since then, Mr. Jones had been on a downhill slope. Nobody ever thought that slope would end like it did.</p><p>Raph blinked against the memory of the day he found out, every little detail burned into his mind, clear as crystal.</p><p>
  <em>His footsteps echoed lightly on the fire escape outside; he could've been absolutely silent if he so chose, but this way Casey knew that he was out there waiting. A few seconds passed before the window slid upward and a dark head popped out.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Hey, man. Now's not exactly a great time-"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A loud crash sounded down the hall and Casey flinched at the obscenities that followed. Raph tensed, frowning, and put a hand on the window to stop it from closing again. "What's going on, Case?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Dad's just having a bad night, s'all. Why don't you come back tomorrow, it'll be better by then." But there was something about his voice that didn't sit right. He was nervous, and not just because his father was having a screaming fit. Now that Raph was thinking about it, the teen was keeping his head carefully turned towards the floor, away from scrutiny.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Warning bells went off in Raph's mind and something dark curled in his gut. "Casey, look at me."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I don't think-"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Look at me, damn it."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The shaggy-haired teen glanced up, finally allowing his best friend to see the ugly purple-black bruise blooming across his cheek. Blood welled from his busted lip and he rubbed a thumb across it distractedly. "It's not what you think. I had hockey practice today. Those guys are pretty rough sometimes."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I'm gonna kill him."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Raph, dude, it's fine. He's just having a bad night, okay? Don't worry about it."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The turtle crossed his arms and sighed. "Casey, of course I'm going to worry about it. You're part of my Clan, and more than that, you're my brother. Now let me deal with this."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And there was fear, real fear, in Casey's expression now. "You can't."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Why not?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Look, Dad- he found out about mutants, okay? He found out about you guys, about April, about the Kraang - all of it. If you go in there, if he sees you, he'll kill you."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Case-"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"He's ex-military, Raph. He knows exactly what he's doing, knows how to fight, how to kill. And I-I can't watch my best friend die." The last part came out in a whisper, and both of them pretended not to notice the way that Casey's hands were shaking.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The pair fell silent for a long while as each teen was left to his own thoughts. Another crash brought them back to the present and Raph sighed again, resigned to the situation even though he hated it. "Anything I can do?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Come back tomorrow," Casey replied quietly, and there was gratefulness on his face. "I'll text you later."</em>
</p><p>Except the text messages never came, and after a few hours spent completely on-edge, Raph ventured back out of the Lair to his best friend's apartment, only to find blood splattered across the bathroom fixtures and Casey dead on the bathroom floor with a gun in his hand. His father's gun, specially designed with biometric scanners that would only allow the owner to fire it - a fact that the police had conveniently overlooked.</p><p>The coroner ruled it a suicide and Casey's father vanished shortly thereafter, not even sticking around for the funeral. Nobody even questioned it, claiming it was a product of the man's grief; first his wife and daughter died, and then his son committed suicide with his father's gun.</p><p>Even Raph's own brothers believed that it was suicide. They would, because Raph hadn't told them - hadn't told a single person what he'd seen, what he'd heard. What he'd sworn to keep secret. That secret got his best friend killed.</p><p>Raphael would not fail a second time.</p><p>With that in mind, he stuffed his final few possessions into his backpack and headed out to his motorcycle. He was leaving New York City in the footsteps of a killer; with any luck his family wouldn't notice until he was long gone.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter Three: Jason</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you see that the chapters are numbered differently now, I edited it so that the prologue was actually chapter one. The previous numbering was driving my OCD insane.</p><p>Also, if you couldn't tell by the chapter title, this chapter is the first one with Jason. :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>Chapter Three: Jason</h1><p>The Red Hood stared down at his phone screen in disbelief and muttered something under his breath.</p><p>This was the third time this week that one of Gotham's crime lords was found unconscious on the steps of the police station. No one knew how they'd gotten there or who'd brought them in, but no one was complaining, either.</p><p>Well, no one except him. Whoever was doing this work was nosing in, and he didn’t like it one single bit.</p><p>“Crime Alley and the Bowery are <em>my</em> territory,” the vigilante growled, fully aware that he sounded like a spoiled brat. As per usual, he found himself grateful that he’d moved into an apartment of his own a year and a half ago. If he was still living with his family they’d never let him live this particular moment down.</p><p>
  <em>“No one is disputing that, you know.”</em>
</p><p>The voice was unexpected, though not unwelcome, and Hood rolled his eyes fondly as he crouched down on the building ledge to peer at a nearby alleyway. “Someone is moving in on my turf,” he repeated. “Seems like a dispute to me.”</p><p>There were a few moments of silence before he got a response. <em>“Might just be someone trying to build a reputation for themselves. Whoever it is probably figures they’re doing you a favor by helping to clean up the streets of Gotham.”</em></p><p>“They’re not. Any idea who’s behind the recent action?”</p><p><em>“None, but I should have something soon. It’s odd that no one has reported the supposed hero - the news hasn’t even covered them. It’s like they’re-”</em> A mechanical chime sounded through the comm and a crow of triumph soon followed. <em>“Gotcha. This guy is either really smart, or really good at sticking to the shadows. I’ve only found a few mentions of him here and there, nothing really concrete, except…”</em></p><p>“Except what?” Hood pressed. He was itching to find out who was behind everything that had happened recently.</p><p>More than that, he was ready for a fight.</p><p><em>“A name is all I really have at the moment,”</em> Oracle replied, and her friend grinned beneath his helmet. It clearly rankled her to no end that she had nothing solid to go off of. <em>“For all other intents and purposes, it’s as if this guy doesn’t actually exist.”</em></p><p>“Name?”</p><p>
  <em>“He goes by Nightwatcher. My guess is that either he’s not from around here or he’s just really new to the scene. Either way, there aren’t a lot of known variables in this equation, so be careful.”</em>
</p><p>“Aren’t I always? Thanks, O.” Hood’s grin faded a bit as he turned off his comm and focused once more on the alleyway. Nothing was happening in Crime Alley tonight other than a few random break-ins that he took care of quickly. Easy stuff - <em>boring</em> stuff.</p><p><em>Maybe I should just call it a night.</em> The vigilante sighed and began to stand up - and then movement a few rooftops over caught his eye. There was someone stalking around and having an animated discussion - with whom, Hood couldn’t tell. But judging by their body language, they weren’t happy.</p><p>Curiosity tugged at the Red Hood and he quietly drew closer, just within earshot.</p><p><em>“-all the places I’ve looked, I still can’t get a lead. It’s impossible to find any clues in this stinkhole of a city.”</em> There was a pause, as if the figure was listening to someone, and then they shook their head. <em>“Look, I’ve taken down three different crime lords in the past week, and not a single one of them would talk. So either the scumbag is dead, or he’s one of the biggest guns in Gotham. And if he isn’t dead, he’ll wish he was by the time I’m done with him.”</em></p><p>Hood’s head spun. This was the person that had started edging in on his territory - this was the mysterious Nightwatcher.</p><p>Which meant that Hood had his target.</p><p>A familiar anger burned in the man’s veins and he easily leapt the gap between the two rooftops, tucking and rolling before coming to his feet behind his adversary. His hands automatically went to the pistols at his waist and he drew them while stepping closer. “Hey, Chuckles,” Hood called, drawing the Nightwatcher’s attention; the other vigilante turned in surprise, only to find twin barrels staring him in the face. Hood smirked, knowing full well his opponent couldn’t see his expression.</p><p>That suit looked like it was made of Kevlar and steel. It might protect the person inside from shrapnel, but a bullet shot at point blank would still hurt like hell. And Hood wasn’t feeling too lenient.</p><p>He flicked the safeties off and settled into what his family called his “easy intimidation” stance - the stance that told criminals that he had no compunction about using those pistols - and was gratified to see the Nightwatcher stiffen just the tiniest bit.</p><p>“Who are you, and what the <em>hell</em> are you doing in my city?”</p>
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